Abruptly she forced a laugh to keep herself from tears. “My dear, you make one feel like thirty cents.”
It was one of the choicest phrases of the little go-getter, one among the many that had appealed to her friend. Somehow that phrase seemed to save the situation. Yet not altogether.
“I guess you don’t, honey.” Mame spoke bitterly. “And I guess you never will. You and your Mommer and the friends and neighbours and that old house will see to that. I’m the one to feel like thirty cents.”
The voice was so desolate that even Lady Violet, who did not care much for the practice, could not forbear from giving her a kiss. “I remember your saying that you had come over to pull the big stuff. Well, I rather think you’ve pulled it.” And her friend laughed again to keep her courage up.
“I didn’t come to pull this sort of stuff.” Mame snorted as she brushed her eyes fiercely. “I’ve gone cuckoo. And to-morrow I’ll think so.”
“One has to go cuckoo, as you call it, hasn’t one, to do the things worth doing? I could no more have let go that foolish bird, had I been you, than I could have jumped over the moon.”
“No, I guess not. And even now, if you don’t want to lose him you had better watch the cage.”
“How can we help you to keep your little paws off the foolish creature?”
“By not letting me see him again.” Mame was stoical. As she spoke she wrapped up the box containing the ring and the letter she had written in a piece of brown paper; and then applied red sealing wax. “And if you are wise you’ll just see that he gets married pretty soon to—to—” Even her bravery was not quite equal to the task of pronouncing the hated name. “I think I’ll go to the post office and send this back in a registered parcel.”
She quitted the room abruptly, leaving her friend to some very sharp-edged thoughts.